


Seeking Kinks in the Chain

by ellorgast



Series: Saadet Adaar [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: BDSM, Comedy, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-03-03 18:27:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2861159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellorgast/pseuds/ellorgast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seeker Cassandra fears that the Iron Bull may have some remaining loyalty to the Qun.  After all, only an enemy spy could be curious about the methods she once used to interrogate the Inquisitor.  Why else would he be interested in a time when his lover was in chains and subject to another's will?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seeking Kinks in the Chain

There were times when everyone knew to get out of Seeker Cassandra’s way. Whether the entire Inquisition once held a meeting to inform each other that it was unhealthy to be caught in the crossfire when she was marching through the halls with that particular _look_ in her eye, or whether all who saw her just instinctively knew that being elsewhere was in their best interest, she did not care. The important thing was, when Cassandra Pentaghast tore through the library and mounted the stairs to the rookery, a path cleared before her. 

She found Leliana with a monstrous raven on her arm, cooing at it as though it was a gentle dove instead of a fierce carrion bird with a nasty temper. The Spymaster glanced up at her with a raised eyebrow--the closest Leliana would ever get to ‘surprised.’ “Cassandra? Is something the matter?”

“Leliana. I must--” Cassandra was forced to abruptly duck away when the raven snapped its steel trap of a beak at her. Not many things could make Cassandra Pentaghast flinch, but this particular raven had wounded several scouts, and it liked to go for the face. If she was going to face this creature, it would be with a helmet and visor on. “I must speak with you in private. The matter may be urgent.”

“Of course. Shall we speak in the war room?” Leliana returned the bird to its cage, which it stepped into as docily as a beloved dog. 

“I would prefer not to bring this before the rest of the council just yet. It… concerns some of our comrades.”

She knew that she had given far too much away to Leliana already. The edge in her voice, the carry of her shoulders, any other number of subtle tells that would clearly lay out Cassandra’s concerns before her. Subtlety and subterfuge had never been Cassandra’s strong point, and so to the other Hand of the Divine, she had always been an open book. Leliana simply nodded. “I see. Then let us go somewhere where it is safe for us to speak freely, yes?”

Working with Leliana for years had allowed Cassandra only the faintest glimpse into how she worked. She was not surprised when Leliana led her down a seldom-used corridor that the workers appeared to have barely touched, leaving piles of rubble and bits of scaffolding against the walls. Nor was she surprised when fingers working over a series of small crevices revealed a secret door. But what she expected to find when she entered the room was not… whatever this was.

Leliana lit a torch beside the door, and several other torches lining the walls sprang to life. Not magic, surely--more likely some dwarven machination. The windowless room was easily as large as Josephine’s office, with a desk and chair to match, but every wall was covered from floor to ceiling with books. There must have been more books here than there were in the actual Inquisition’s library.

“What is all this?” Cassandra asked, when the heavy oak door had latched into place behind her.

“Records, of course. Correspondences, important findings, that sort of thing. You don’t think I keep intel all in my head, do you?”

“But what if this place were found?”

“In the unlikely event that somebody were to pass through the traps I disabled on our way in here, everything they found would be encoded. It is unreadable to anybody other than myself and a few select agents. Now, tell me your concerns.” She leaned against the desk in the corner of the room, her face only faintly visible in the flickering torchlight.

Cassandra settled herself into a commander’s stance, the one she stood in when surveying soldiers or standing at the war table. Feet planted, hands folded behind her, she could almost feel like she was in control like this, and she got right to the point. “I believe we have been mistaken about the Iron Bull.”

Leliana tilted her head slightly. “Mistaken? In what way?”

“I suspect that his loyalty to the Qun has not been broken, as we were led to believe.”

A lesser person may have been offended by Cassandra’s suggestion--that, as Spymaster, Leliana had made a serious miscalculation. But Leliana was a professional, and her voice was curious, rather than defensive, when she asked, “what has led you to this conclusion?”

“He has been asking very… pointed questions, about matters he has no business knowing. It seems that he somehow learned that after the events at the Conclave, I was the one who questioned the Inquisitor. He wanted to know what sorts of things I asked her, where the interrogation took place, even how she was restrained.”

“Did he say why he wished to know this?”

“Curiosity, he said. As a former Ben-Hassrath. It is a flimsy excuse. The questions were far too specific to be mere curiosity. I fear the more likely answer: that he is gathering information about our weaknesses. His departure from the Qun could have been orchestrated so that we would let down our guard.”

If Leliana was shaken by these revelations, she did not show it. “I see. You are aware, of course, that I have closely monitored the Iron Bull since his joining the Inquisition? His correspondences, his movements, even the meals that he takes.”

“Of which he is no doubt also aware, given that he is also a trained spy.”

There was a glimmer of smug pride beneath Leliana’s careful facade. “We allow him to catch enough glimpses to feel like he knows what we see and what we don’t. He is not aware of every eye upon him, of that you can be certain.”

“But if he were a threat,” Cassandra pursued, “he would be an incredible danger to the Inquisition. His intimate relationship with the Inquisitor…”

“...would make him the greatest threat to her safety, and therefore ours, that we face. Yes.”

Cassandra paced forward, feeling her frustration mounting. “And yet, you do not seem concerned.”

Leliana inclined her head, untroubled by the outburst. “That the situation requires monitoring, on this we agree. We have had far too many misjudgements of our allies in the past to afford to overlook something now, especially from the Inquisitor’s own lover. But as for the danger of his questions… this I do not believe indicates what you think it does.”

The Seeker narrowed her eyes. “You believe you can account for the Iron Bull’s interest in my interrogation methods?”

“With regards to the Inquisitor specifically? Oh yes.” Leliana pushed lightly away from the desk and began scanning the shelves. The books had no titles, only combinations of symbols in some mysterious order, and Cassandra could not fathom what made Leliana choose one seemingly random book from the shelf and flip through it. When she had found what she was looking for, she passed the book to Cassandra. The page was covered with tiny, neatly drawn arcane symbols. Dwarven, perhaps? "What is this?"

"The Inquisitor's personal requisition orders for the past month. West Hill brandy, petite fours, Orlesian silk, silverite chain, a special order from a little Val Royeaux shop called The Beastmaster. Subtle."

Cassandra was hardly surprised that Leliana was keeping tabs on their requisitions. Not a single message passed Skyhold's walls that did not first cross her desk. But she failed to see what was significant about this particular list. "The Inquisitor has grown fond of silk and tiny cakes, and she cares for that mount she likes so much. She is allowed a few luxuries. I hardly see how that is relevant."

"My mistake, this should read silk _ropes_. And August ram leather, specially tanned in Antiva. An elegant choice. She does have a fondness for that shade of blue."

"Her armor is built of the same leather."

"Indeed, but her armor is in no need of repair, and our own leather workers are well suited to the task. Antiva is renowned for the softness and pliability of its leathers, as well as its distinctive smell. Like touching velvet, they say. This is a luxury item, made to be worn against the skin. And--oh my--does that actually say leather _straps_?"

Cassandra was quickly growing weary of the way that Leliana circled around subjects, like a crow drifting slowly above its prey. Nothing that could be spoken in five words would be expressed in anything less than fifty. "And?"

Leliana drifted back to the bookshelf, and after a moment, picked out a second book from what appeared to be an entirely different section. "Perhaps this will make it clearer."

The symbols on this one were different. Cassandra thought they resembled some of the elven runes she had seen in her travels. "How many ciphers do you have?"

"As many as it takes to keep our records safe. This one is doubly encrypted. I could never put our Inquisitor's secrets at risk."

"What secrets could the Inquisitor possibly have that are not already known among the council? You told us everything you found on her background, did you not?" Cassandra reminded herself not to jump to conclusions without all the facts. She had staunchly defended the Inquisitor's qunari heritage, had she not? Silenced any suggestion that she could have any ties to the qun? But if she was colluding, or even sympathetic to a qunari spy... It was unthinkable.

"Everyone has their secrets, Cassandra. Even yourself, I'm sure you'll recall. But allow me to interpret this for you, to put your mind at ease."

Cassandra sighed, knowing Leliana would not just tell her where she was going with this. "But what is it, exactly?"

"A transcript of a conversation between The Inquisitor and the Iron Bull, overheard in her private quarters."

"You have spies listening in her bedroom?"

"One agent only. Somebody I chose for their discretion. Normally I would not be so intrusive, but I had to be sure that certain activities would be done in safety."

"What... activities?"

"Allow me to read. It will become clear." Leliana held the page up to the torchlight, and began to read, slowly and without inflection, translating each word carefully and mechanically. "No. Stop. No. Please. No. I need. Right there. Harder. Yes. Yes. I am. A bad... or perhaps that should be naughty? Little. Herald. And must. Be punished."

"This is..."

"Terrible bedroom talk, yes? Perhaps Varric could give her some tips? His latest issue had simply the most delicious description of a wet--"

"B-but why? She's the Herald of Andraste, the leader of the Inquisition..."

"And sometimes, holding the world by the collar every day makes one wish someone else would sometimes do the holding. Or the collaring. I am not certain whether a leash is also involved."

Cassandra stared, blankly, as half of her brain caught up with what Leliana was saying and the other half desperately rebelled against it.

“But we can be certain,” Leliana continued cheerfully, “that Antivan leather is involved.”

Cassandra felt like she was desperately trying to grasp on to the facts as they tumbled into her hands. "S-so the Iron Bull's interest in my interrogation of the Inquisitor..."

"It is likely that he intends to recreate the scene with some... creative flair."

“Creative… flair,” Cassandra repeated slowly.

“Well she is a naughty little herald,” Leliana said sweetly, “and she needs to be punished.”

The Seeker opened her mouth once, and closed it. Leliana, for her part, spared her longtime comrade the indignity of showing her amusement. Cassandra gripped the hilt of her sword, squared her shoulders, and croaked, “let us never speak of this again.”

“Of course,” Leliana’s voice lightly followed her as she marched from the room. When Cassandra stormed back across the grounds of Skyhold, she hoped that her glare would scare people away from noticing how her face was burning red.


End file.
